


'Til the Ends of the Earth

by Snappy



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-17 23:51:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1407214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snappy/pseuds/Snappy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaworu leaves Shinji a message on his SDAT player. Weeks later, when Shinji is in solitary containment after the events of 3.33, he listens to it. In his white, white world, Shinji is finally able to see red again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Til the Ends of the Earth

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written fic in years. i don't think i've written fic since like, middle school. so i'm jumping back into the world of fic with this lil angsty oneshot.
> 
> this prompt is SO OVERDONE but i can't help it i'm sappy and i had to try my hand at it. so here it is. oh man.

Shinji Ikari sits in his cell, isolated from the world he destroyed. Everything is white. The lights, the walls, the sheets on his bed—all of it a blinding sterile color. It seems to be a fitting place for the most hated person in the world. He’s lost track of how long he’s been here, but it’s certainly been a very long time.  

He vaguely remembers the time he tried to stain everything red. _Anything_ , he thought, _anything to make the white go away._ By doing so, he had hoped that someone would care enough to reach out to him; someone would acknowledge he still existed. But no one did, so he lay motionless, huddled and bleeding on the white, white sheets until they turned crimson, until the crimson turned rust.

A meal was delivered through the slot in the door (the closest thing Shinji got to human contact these days) and a loud _thunk_ echoed through the room as the hatch closed. Reluctantly, Shinji dragged himself to the tray and noticed a plastic bag with a familiar object inside.

It’s his SDAT player.

For a moment, Shinji stares at the SDAT in shock. He had left it in Unit-13’s entry plug, hadn’t he? So how—or more importantly, why—did this piece of junk keep finding its way back to him? Delicately, he takes the player out of the bag and a small note escapes his hands, falling to the floor. It reads: “Recovered this. Still works. Didn’t listen to it.” The words are slanted and hastily written—Misato’s handwriting. His headphones are there too, he noticed, although the wires near the connector were starting to fray.

The tape inside was the same one as well—a custom mixtape Kaworu had made for him when he fixed it so long ago,  full of piano concertos and symphonies. He remembers sharing his headphones and listening to the whole tape lying next to Kaworu the night he gave it to him. Shinji hadn’t felt that calm in a long, long time. Maybe it would bring him peace again. After all, listening to it once more certainly wouldn’t do any harm.

He plugs himself into the music and lies awake in his bed, enjoying the melodies as they slip past his ears. Hours seem to pass and Shinji finds himself in a tranquil bliss. The songs are just as grand as the first time he heard them, and he’s surprised to realize he still remembers nearly all of the songs. The last track comes to a dramatic finale and Shinji expects the tape to begin rewinding, but the audio cracks and a soft, familiar voice trails through the SDAT.

“Shinji? I’ll wait a moment before continuing. Please take proper courtesy and have only Ikari listen to this track. If you aren’t Ikari, I plead with you to turn off the SDAT and deliver this message to him.”

Shinji immediately stopped the tape, hands trembling on the pause button.  It’s the first time he’s heard another person’s voice in weeks. (Months, maybe. He’d lost track of time.) It’s Kaworu’s voice. Kaworu had recorded a message for him. How long has this been on the tape? He doesn’t remember Kaworu ever saying anything about leaving a recording, and he certainly hadn’t heard this before. Tentatively, he presses play again. Kaworu’s words crackle back to life.

“…Well, Shinji? I’m guessing it’s just you and me now, hm? There are so many things that I have been meaning to say to you. As we descend into Terminal Dogma tomorrow night I have lingering fears that I might not return back. I assume you’d be listening to this after the mission. If everything ran smoothly and successfully, I would hope we’ve rebuilt the world by now to the standards of your happiness. However…If my instinct was true, and I had indeed died during our mission, forgive me, and stay strong. This is the end of my life, but not yours. You, Shinji, have so much more to live for. Keep your will to survive close to your heart and don’t let go of it under any circumstances, do you understand me?

There are so many things you have a right to know that I haven’t had the chance to tell you yet. So many things that I have to apologize for. Please, bear with me. This is something I have to do.

I’m sorry, Shinji. I’m sorry. I was being so, so, selfish. I guess some foolhardy part of myself hoped that maybe somehow, things this time would turn out alright. That I’d finally get the happy ending I’ve been wishing for so long. But now…I’m starting to realize. Maybe….maybe it’s not your happiness I’m seeking after all. I think after all this time I’ve been using your happiness as an excuse to find my own. I deluded myself into thinking that it was you I was doing all this for, but in reality it was for my own selfish desires. And that’s absolutely unthinkable of me. It’s cowardly—I’m a coward! I only end up running away from my problems by indirectly pushing them onto someone else. In a sense, I suppose you and I are the same. And if that is true, and you experience much of the same things I do, then my apology increases tenfold. I wouldn’t wish my inner dialogue or thoughts onto anyone, not even my greatest enemy.

 I am so, so sorry Shinji.

This isn’t the happiness either of us wished for.

To the Shinjis that have existed in the past—forgive me. I wish for nothing more than to travel back to you and atone for my sins. I left you broken, depressed and longing for a touch I can no longer give you. Know that you aren’t forgotten in my heart. I carry you with me everywhere I go, and the burdens of your spirit help me to remember what weight of a human life is.

To the Shinjis that will exist in the future—everything I do is for you. Every step I take is a step with hopes that it will help you achieve a lifetime where you can live peacefully without fearing the touch of others. When there are times I find it difficult to continue living, I remember what your face will look like. I remember how the touch of your skin will feel. And so, I get up and continue fighting for you.

To my dearest Shinji, the one listening now. You are my absolute everything. I worked so hard for you in particular. I was sure that with enough careful planning I could craft a plan that would allow both of us to live in harmony. We could have lived long lives and, who knows!, maybe even break the curse of EVA and begin to age again. Nothing would bring me more joy than being able to grow old with you by my side. There would certainly be plenty of stars to watch—and I find great beauty in that, the same as you. We could destroy this world over and over again but the stars would stay there, ever unchanging.

You have a natural talent for piano. Don’t give it up. Keep playing, please. And as you play, let my spirit rise up from the notes and remind you that I’m still here. No matter what Shinji, I’m never going to leave your side. You can be assured in that. My music will ring in your ears and your melodies will do the same to mine. Think of it as a way to continue living together, even when separated. Music reaches places you’d never imagine, Shinji. It will reach me. If you pour your heart into your song I’ll feel it in my soul.

Keep living out this life to the fullest, Shinji.

And if a day comes that your spirit feels warm and full, know that someone out there in the cosmos, I’ve succeeded in bringing you bliss.

Trust in me, Shinji. I’ll never stop fighting for you.

I love you, Shinji Ikari.”

The tape stopped, and Shinji’s hands quivered. He was crying, he realized, when the tears dripped down onto his headphones, running down the wire. There was a tremendous weight on his chest and Shinji found it difficult to breathe. His throat was constricted and his face felt red from crying. Red, he thought. The red that stained his room so long ago. The red that splattered on the walls of the entry plug. Red was the last thing he had to remember about Kaworu.

And at the realization of that, Shinji wailed. He was crying loud and ugly tears, and he knew it was unattractive but he didn’t care. He wanted Kaworu back. To hold him, to talk to him, to see him just one more time. It was like the wound of losing him was reopened except…this time, there was a certain closure to it. Perhaps now it could heal correctly. It would still scar, of course, but Shinji found a comfort in that. Kaworu would be with him everywhere he went. He wasn’t alone. Even if the entire world is against him, Shinji would never be alone.

As he rubbed the moisture out of his eyes, Shinji whispered to himself, faint, the first words he’s said in weeks.

“I will, Kaworu. I’ll trust in you ‘til the ends of the earth.

…I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> idk man i just really really like broken kaworu. when he breaks down and isn't the perfect emotionally collected angel he always sets himself up to be. we need more sad broken kaworu in the world that continues to support shinji despite his own struggles and i'm here to help supply this.


End file.
